Judging by this cake I actually turned two, so you’ll just have to believe me when I say I’m 30 now, Reader.
And it’s funny, you know. In the months leading up to 30, I got a teensy bit weird about it. ”Now I’ll never be a twenty-something author!” I heard my obnoxious inner dialogue say. ”Forty didn’t bother me. Fifty didn’t bother me. But double nickels: 55. That bothered me,” my dad used to say about his birthday. I guess we all have our personal hangups about age.
But I have to tell you, I had the warmest welcome into the 30 and Up Club. In a feeble attempt to fish for compliments or possibly just reassurance about the future, I kept making jokes about Ensure and walkers and early bedtimes, in the hopes that my friends would say something like: “Ha! Ha ha! That’s what you think! Your 30′s are actually crazier than your 20′s! Get ready, you crazy, crazy girl!” But they didn’t, and I’m glad. Because that was 20s stuff. I’m ready for 30s stuff.
Also, early bedtimes are no joke.
That’s me, sitting on my friend Kim, enjoying a single pepper for dinner. I’ll thwart you yet, slower 30′s metabolism!
Just kidding, I actually ate this. It was super good.
Thank you, Second Bar & Kitchen for hosting my friends and I! Your cheese boards. Your astroturf balcony. Your enthusiastic hat-wearing customers … WAIT, I know these people:
These are my friends, working my friend Amy’s hat. I said something like “just be silly!” but just between you and me Reader, I think they all took their assignment very seriously. Take note, England: We are hat-ready over here in Austin, Texas.
Let’s discuss this silver Jetsons dress.
OK. So I actually picked out this dress out for SXSW, or rather my friend Laurel of Trophy Boutique picked out this dress for me when I begged her for help. I hired her to style me, she did, she was amazing, and I had it tailored and everything. I was SO EXCITED to show off my shiny silver dress during SXSW, when Austin temporarily decided to become Alaska, or what I can only imagine Alaska to be like in a drizzly, cold, Wuthering Heights-esque miserable rainstorm, and I had to cover up my silver dress with a huge shapeless coat. My dress was forced to retreat, sad and defeated, back into my closet.
Until, that is, I hauled it out for my birthday! And gave it the night it deserved. In case you’re wondering, silver dresses deserve exposure to gay bars.
Check out this hot gay dude I picked up! I’m just kidding, that’s my husband. He’s totally straight. Unless there’s a serious conversation he needs to have with me.
In all seriousness, I could not have asked for a more lovely transition into age 30. I’m thrilled to be here, I’m thrilled to be here with you, and I’m thrilled that it actually is kind of cool to go to bed early now. Let’s celebrate by packing it in before Letterman tonight, OK guys?
Cheers to a new decade!